This past November, my husband and I moved out of the townhouse we’d rented together for 7 years and directly into a whirlwind story called “First-Time Homeownership with a Side of the Holiday Season.” We were unpacking, experiencing the joy of our first overflowed toilet, geeking out as we raised and lowered the miracle of our garage door a hundred times, meeting the neighbors (and neighborhood OWL!), and simultaneously running around like nutballs, hosting and traveling and visiting for the holidays.

Justin acquired a deep fascination with all household heating and cooling processes, quickly becoming BFFs with the basement air handler. I could not get over the idea of having 24/7 access to our own private chunk of grass (aka “a yard”!) And in the midst of it all, we entered a difficult new season with my grandmother who, at 96, is experiencing the disorienting decline into late-stage Alzheimer’s that’s catalyzed frequent trips to my hometown of Pittsburgh.

So when I sat down to think about what nice wintery State College tale I could tell you in this week’s newsletter, I was coming up blank. “I’ve hardly State College-d at all lately!” I thought.

I didn’t see the ice sculptures at First Night, check out Bellefonte’s Victorian Christmas, or see the holiday lights at the Arboretum.

My story-worthy heartwarming community moments have been few and far between… because I’ve hardly been out in the community!

Instead, life has been a blur of cardboard boxes, family events, lots of facetime with I-99 and Route 22, and intermittent attempts at recuperation on the couch while rewatching episodes of Gilmore Girls. Not the most helpful behind the scenes peek into real, authentic, State College life.

Or so I thought.

Because while the truth is that I don’t have much in the way of big stories or experiences to share this week, I did experience a lot of little moments that I think also hint at what it means to live here.

Living in State College means having the potential for a healthier work-life balance. And because I work with a team of people who also value that balance, I’ve had the flexibility to write and work around mid-week visits with my grandma, caring for my mental health, being present during the holidays, and taking extra time to get things organized after the move.

New neighbors stopped by to welcome us with a poinsettia, a tin of homemade cookies, and an offer to borrow a hedge trimmer in the summer so we wouldn’t have to buy our own.

We took advantage of the students being gone over winter break and met our realtor-turned-friend and his wife downtown for ramen at Tadashi. (In true State College fashion, it had taken about 5 minutes and one conversation to figure out that we knew lots of the same people and had many overlapping interests.)

And uncomplicated access to trails and fresh air reset the winter blues and feelings of overwhelm on more than one occasion. In chaotic times, Musser Gap, Fisherman’s Paradise, and walks around the neighborhood are as much a part of the support squad as family and friends.

It’s been interesting to notice how a slowed-down pace of life, connection with community, and the stability that comes with time spent outdoors, still – seemingly automatically – infuse day to day life in small doses, even in times when I feel quite disconnected from it all.

Sitting here in my living room writing this, I’m starting to hear our resident owl begin his nightly conversation. It’s another small (but very State College!) invitation to reconnect.